The Guild Hunters (Search for the Demon Keys)
by Jinx Mage
Summary: Wizards need guilds that's how it works. It seems though, that all the guilds that want Cayden don't want Low, and all the guilds that want Low only exist in her head. Things get even more complicated when rumors of celestial keys that summon demons start to arise. When you throw in a new traveling companion, things only get more complicated.
1. Prologue

**Fairy Tale Fan fiction**

Note: This is under fan fiction because the ideas of this particular fictional world are not my own. I like the idea of Guilds and different types of magic. This is the only reason why this story is under fan fiction, because I don't want to steal that particular idea. I may throw in some actual facts from Fairy Tail, but I'm not going hard core on this. I have my own ideas about how the magic is used and what kind of magic there is. So no insults or comments on that, alright? This is again a fan fiction because I don't want to steal the idea of Guilds. All the characters, creatures, and most of the magic used is of my own creation.

**Prologue:**

The clearing was cold, white, and beautiful. The snow fell lightly, covering up the small footed tracks that led to the middle of the field like area where a figure rested on her knees, head bowed.

The girl who sat there, all alone, wrapped her arms around her legs and shivered uncontrollably. Her skin was very pale, there was just a bit of color in her obstructed cheeks. The cloak that covered her from head to toe made her look like an oversized mouse. An over sized mouse with eyes the color of the palest tan.

She was small, and skinny, almost like a doll. The girls face was so still it was like porcelain and just as beautiful. Her eyes were just the right size, and rested under thin, pale eyebrows and dark, thick lashes which were frosted over with white flakes of snow flurry.

Her cheekbones were high, and her chin was just rounded enough so her face wasn't angular, but thin enough that her cheeks didn't hold the baby fat of childhood. The girls nose was small, and dainty. Currently red from cold as she sneezed.

She was a pretty, freezing doll that was just about to break.

The girl looked at the snow, her eyes burning as the light wind stung her face. She looked up at the sky and rocked back and forth slightly, as though insanity had finally reached her.

Tears welled in her eyes as she spoke to herself, her light, musical voice shaking with fear.

"Can't let him find me. He's hunting though."

The girl cracked her knuckles repeatedly, wincing slightly as they groaned in protest.

"Have to slow him down."

She froze suddenly, shaking her head furiously, "Never use them, never."

With a sudden change of heart the girl moaned, growing more and more upset. "But they'll help me."

A single shaking hand reached into the pocket of her thin cloak, snatching up a ring of white keys and pulling them out. The keys never left her pocket, ever. To use them was to sign a death sentence.

The girl looked through each one carefully, and stopped at one in particular. The key was simple, a curved top with a leopard sprawled lazily on top of it. The silvery white leopard blinked it's ruby eyes at her. As though asking the question, 'Well? Are you going to use me or not?'

With a delicate shiver, the girl stuck the key into the snow and turned it, a feeling of foreboding releasing butterflies in her stomach.

The flash of pain was quick and burning. White hot fire scorched her veins, she could almost feel her skin bubble. It felt as though a thousand knives were jabbing her at one time in each toe, eyelash, and finger.

As the pain died down, the girl looked up at the tall figure in front of her.

Dark hair framed his angular face, just barely covering his red eyes. His mouth curved into a small, malicious smile as he watched her.

"Naughty girl, you haven't called on me in a while. I've been lonely you know. Down in Hell. The draft is terrible." He winked a red iris at her suggestively.

"Not too lonely though."

The demon smirked, and knelt down next to the frightened teenager, his expression morphing from playful to scarily amused. "Just a few more times lovely, then you'll be ours." He played with a strand of hair that was peeking out from under her drawn hood.

In that instant, the girl made the mistake of looking up. A horde of demons, small, large, grotesque and human. Red eyes, yellow pupils. Horns, wings, teeth, and snarls. 'Belonging to demons... a fate worse than Hell. Ironic.'

The girl shuddered.

"I need a storm."

The man looked at her coolly and lay back against the snow, his dark hair contrasting beautifully with the pure white around him. His red eyes looked at her, amused.

"Do you now? More specific dearie, I'm a charmer, not a mind reader."

"A snowstorm." She clarified, trying to hide a look of disgust. "A big one, I don't want him to find me."

"No? Why are you running lovely? I'm sure if you just handed over the ke-"

The much smaller girl gave him a glare so fierce that he didn't think even he could match it. "No!" The snarl was almost possessive. Seeming to realize what she was doing, the girl looked at her feet, her voice turning soft and timid again. "He can't have them."

"I'm sure I can have someone make up a nice storm for you then. Are you to stay here during this blizard?"

"No."

The demon looked away and stood abruptly. "I'll see what I can do." He stopped and turned back to her. "Remember, just a few more times, than you'll get to meet your maker. Quite literally." He turned back around, mist starting to gather as he prepared to portal back.

"Wait."

The demon waited.

"I want one of them with me, just to watch. To let me know if he's there."

With a smile full of sharp teeth aimed away from the girl, the demon disappeared, his voice echoed around the clearing. "As you wish lovely."


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

"What's got you so pissed Cayden? It's cold enough without the wind blowing 100 miles an hour." The girl with the yellow hair said, slightly teasing, and slightly annoyed. It was, indeed, extremely cold in the frost colored forest.

The sleet was falling sideways and the cold wind bit into the girls cheeks and stung her eyes, blowing her long hair behind her shoulders. Her yellow locks crackled with electricity as she trembled, trying not to let her teeth chatter.

The boy -Cayden- whom she had been affectionately poking fun at looked at his shoes, or, where his shoes would have been, had they not been under a few feet of snow. Personally, he wasn't the least bit cold, but he knew that his friend was probably on the brink of frostbite.

"It's not me, I wouldn't do that." Cayden sighed unhappily as a ghost of a smile crept over the girls face.

"Just messing with you, if you were actually doing this I would have killed you by now."  
Another gust of wind knocked into the girl, sending her sprawled on her back. She blinked furiously, trying to get the snow out of her eyes. Her hair seemed to lighten, and there was a sound of sizzling as an unfortunate snowflake came into contact with a stray strand of the electricity that was bouncing off of her.

"Low, we need to find a warmer place, the snow's starting to stick to you."

Cayden stood abruptly, his movements subtle, and even a little graceful. He looked down at the girl with the lighting hair who couldn't stop herself from shivering as she sat up, fighting to stay upright as the wind harshly screamed.

"C-can't you d-d-o anything about the w-wind?" She asked, grinding her teeth as a fine tremor wreaked havoc on her body.

"If I could, I would have by now. This isn't normal wind, someone else is causing it and they're too powerful for me to stop them." Cayden held out a slightly tanned hand for her to grab onto.

Low looked at the boy as she grabbed his outstretched hand, hoisting herself up to a standing position. "That's some scary stuff, can you tell where it's coming from?"

The tree they had been settled under shuddered and a handfulls worth of snow came tumbling down, causing Low to jump out of the way and run into Cayden. The two of them fell over and Low landed to the right of him.

Cayden looked over at her after a moment, a bit amused.

"Scared of snow?"

Low's reddened even more, partly from cold and partly from embarrassment. "Not at all, now come on. The sooner we get out of the cold the happier the storm will be."

"Now you're talking in third person, that's one of the first signs of insanity you know."

Low through a glare back at him as they both stood up awkwardly, or, at least, it was awkward for Cayden. As they trudged sluggishly through the wintery wonderland of a forest, Cayden thought he could hear Low mutter something along the lines of, "I'll you show you insanity when I shove my foot where the sun doesn't shine."  
The two headed out to the middle of nowhere, hopefully in search of a warm place.

******

Walking for roughly twenty minutes had managed to land the pair on the outskirts of a small storm seemed to lessen, the snow dropped less heavily, and the wind was quieter. For this, Low was thankful.

"Better?" Cayden asked, looking over at her. He wasn't as affected by the cold as her, he was a wizard that specialized in wind though. Low, was not.

"Much." Low said with a relieved breath. "We should probably find a place to sleep, do you have any money?"

Cayden sighed heavily and rummaged around in his pockets for a moment, managing to come up with a lint covered silver coin and a few bronze coins. "Only what was left from the last odd job I did. This will only be enough for a night. You have anything?"

Low frowned, her eyebrows knitting together. "Nothing, spent it all on food last week."

"Damn."

Low looked at him for a moment, she sighed unhappily as they walked through the near empty streets. With her eyes trained on the ground, Low sighed. "Maybe we should just try fighting separately. You can get into a nice guild then and-"

Cayden remained quiet and looked over at her, his disappointed expression made Low feel ashamed. "-and you would go back home to your parents and give up magic."

The idea of fighting separately itself was painful, they had been partners in magic for forever. Going back to her parents was, perhaps, the only worse punishment.

Low struggled to come up with a response to make Cayden feel better, but was unable to.

"Right, that's what I thought you were thinking. I can't let you do that Lowa. I wouldn't be able to use magic without you around anyway."

The two of them walked in an uncomfortable silence, neither really looked at the village as they passed by the shops.

It was quiet for a few moments, the snow fell and the wind that had been absent before blew. Cayden seethed quietly and Low had to move away from him to avoid being pelted with heavy gusts of wind.

Just as well, Low herself was having a hard time keeping her temper under control. Her hair had turned a dangerous yellow/light blue and crackled with unseen electricity. Her hands glowed yellow as the energy gathered, her eyes turning lighter.  
Low looked up from the dirty ground to sneak a glance at Cayden, and saw that the black ink swirls around his face had turned a light grey. She had pissed him off more than she had originally thought.

A noise became painfully present at that moment. In the presence of light wind, the quiet sound of music, and the crunching of snow beneath feet, the groan of pain heard was obnoxiously loud in comparison.

Low stopped, and looked to her left, where a seemingly deserted alleyway stood, dark and foreboding. Low took a step inside, only to be thrust back out by a rough tug.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Cayden hissed furiously at her, taking a nervous glance into the blackness. "There could be anyone- anything in there. Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

Low shot him a fierce glare and flipped her hair, feeling the slightest satisfaction when she heard a stray hair make contact with her companions skin. "I'm a grown wizard love, I can handle myself."

Energy crackled in her palms as Low continued on, not caring that Cayden was slinking along, annoyed behind her, muttering something along the lines of, "Girls are so complicated." Or at least, that was all Low cared to hear.

The groan of pain was louder, and decidedly feminine as Low walked stealthily along the brick ground, wincing at every mucky puddle she squished in.

Light gathered in Low's hand and in one fluid motion, she had tossed a ball of it into the air.

A sudden burst of wind blew the ball of light forward, and a myriad of twinkling lights illuminated the alleyway.

The odd pair both hesitated in taking a step forward as the slumped form of a young girl lay against a trash bin in front of them.

"H-hello? You there, are you alright?"

The light seemed even more eerie in the darkness as the girl looked up.

White hair was tucked behind a pointed, elf like ear. The girls skin was pale, and her eyes were a shocking white. When she spoke, it was only to say a single sentence. "It's very cold, don't you think?"

Then the girl passed out in the alleyway, her long hair splaying over her face and becoming dirtied on the dark, dirty brick.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

The girl was groggy when she woke up, her eyelids were heavy and the faint smell of something warm and sweet hung over her like a blanket. With a loud yawn, she hoisted herself up, and found that she was tangled in rough sheets. The cotton scratched her skin and made her leave the modest bed earlier than she would have liked.

'Where am I?' She thought to herself as she glanced around the room. The last thing she remember was an alleyway, a cold storm, snow, so much snow. The girl shuddered at the thought and shook her head, clearing her mind as best she could.

Taking the time to look at her surroundings, the white haired girl found that she was in a small, clean room. The bed was small, and the sheets and quilt on top of it looked worn, but ironed never the less.

A wooden, edgy nightstand sat next to the bed, and a rug covered most of the floor apart from the wooden flooring in front of the small door. It was unusual for the girl to consider anything small, as she was so petite herself, weighing in at a whopping 85 pounds.

The girl looked down at herself to -with great delight- find herself in her same clothes. 'At least,' she began in her thoughts, 'they had the courtesy to not undress me.'

Self conscious all of a sudden, the girl scratched the back of her head to find that her hair was a pigeon's nest. The girl herself never knew why some would call it a rats nest. Why would a rat live in your hair? A pigeon however... another delicate shiver of disgust crawled up her spine.

With a stretch and another cat like yawn, the girl walked quietly to the door, wincing at the creaking of the floor beneath her bare feet.

The metal knob was cold to the touch as she wrenched the door open and crept outside. The hallway's ceiling was a bit higher than the bedroom, but the extra space was taken up by large candles that hung suspended in the air along the walls, casting a warm glow over the space.

The girl walked forward (backward was a dead end) cautiously, her eyes open for any signs of life. There were a few scattered doors in the hallway as she walked down. Reaching the end of the hallway, and the beginning of a large wooden staircase, the girl found a door cracked open.

She only argued internally with herself for a few seconds before her curiosity got the best of her and she peeked inside. Almost instantly, she jumped back out into the hallway though, at the sight of a bare chest attached to a pair of jean clad legs... walking toward her."

The girl panicked as she saw the toe of a hard sole boot step out of the door slowly. In half an instant, she had made up her mind.

In a move that most certainly could have been marked as "humanly impossible", the white eyed girl had thrown herself at the metal railing and was sliding down quickly. At the sight of an opening to the kitchen, she hoisted herself over the edge and landed momentarily on her feet before her knees buckled and sent her toppling toward the ground.

The entire show took no more than four or five seconds tops.

The girl shoved herself against the staircase, hiding in the shadow of the slight overhang of wood. What if this was just another branch of insanity that happened to be disguised as a simple house? Then she would be dead, and her hair would still be a mess.

It was a pact she had made of sorts, that she would not, no , that she refused to die when her hair looked like a pigeon's nest.

The girl took in her immediate surroundings quickly. It seemed that she had landed in sort of a living room like area, a few overly stuffed couches sat before a crackling fireplace. The window on the wall farthest from her indicated that it was still snowing heavily, and if she tried to leave now she would probably end up freezing to death.

'Lovely.'

The stairs behind her creaked loudly as a heavy set of footsteps tromped down them quickly. The girl couldn't remember a time when she had wanted to swear so badly. More than a few choice words were floating to the surface of her thoughts.

"Hana? Has Axl come in yet?" A masculine voice called from right above the small, elf like girl, the obviously male being, passed right by the entrance of the living and moved into the kitchen.  
"No, not yet Mace. You'll be the first to know when he does, anyway I doubt that he's stupid enough to travel in this weather." A soft voice murmured from the kitchen.

The white haired girl moved closer to the kitchen, wanting to get a look at both the gentle sounding female, and the booming male.

The kitchen was a well lit, and decidedly happy place. It smelled heavily of the same sweet aroma that had tickled her nose before. She peeked carefully into the kitchen to see a pan of bread on a simple table.

Then suddenly, her view was blocked by -surprise, surprise- the same figure that had caused her mad dash downstairs in the first place. The girl looked up to see a mess of dark hair and blue eyes, and a handsome face staring down at her and looking extremely amused.

"Well now, you aren't part of my guild."

The girl leaped back and in a second, like a gut reaction almost, she shoved her hand in her pocket, as though to withdraw a concealed weapon.

"What? What's happening? Oh, move you great loath!" A tall, curved, rather pretty woman, shoved the tall male out of the way and looked at the girl.

"Ah, there you are. Was wondering when you would wake up. Don't mind Mace, he's an idiot."

The girl decided that this was Hana.

Hana grabbed her wrist and went to pull her into the kitchen, the girl followed along, only dragging her feet a little bit as she was pulled toward the modest, wooden table.

An empty vase rested in the middle, and the girl felt very uncomfortable as she was sat down in one of the matching chairs surrounding it.

"Where am I?"

The pale eyed girl found that her voice was hoarse from not using it all morning. She cleared her throat, feeling the awkward tension in the room thicken.

"Phoenix Grave lovely. Home of the best S-class mages you'll ever meet."

The girl whipped around to look at the shirtless male she had seen earlier. "Call me that again and I'll wring your neck." Her growl was low and fierce, though it didn't seem to bother the offender, who just chuckled.

"Sure you will."

Hana had come back from a different corner of the kitchen and set a plate of bread and fruits on the table in front of the girl.

"What's your name anyway? You were just dropped off here, no information or anything."

The girl picked up a strawberry and nibbled on it half heartedly. "Amir. My name's Amir."

Hana smiled. "I'm Hana, the half-naked idiot is Mace."

Mace yawned dramatically and stretched, striking a ridiculous pose. "Of course you've probably already heard of me though."

Amir looked at him, her eyes blank. "Never before in my life." She deadpanned.

Hana laughed lightly and Mace gaped like a bloated fish. Amir finished her strawberry and found that she wasn't exactly hungry, though the food certainly looked appetizing.

"How did I get here?" This was the question that haunted Amir a bit more, nobody really cared enough to drop her off with anyone.

Hana opened her mouth to answer, but a knock at the door stopped her. "Oh! That might be them now." She smiled lightly and moved out of the kitchen, leaving Amir with Mace.

"Are you even a wizard?"

Amir looked up at Mace, who had crossed his arms over his chest and was giving her a strange look.

"Oh course I am."

"Really now?"

Amir looked at him very seriously. "Put some clothes on."

He smirked and pulled her up by her arms and tugging her out of the kitchen and into the living room. "Why? Do I make you... uncomfortable?" He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Amir yanked her arms out of his grip and didn't change her expression. "No, it's just not much of a view."

The sound of a door opening echoed through the house, and both of them looked to the door as Hana came back, a couple by her side... a familiar couple. One that Amir had already seen once before.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3:**

Amir didn't know why, but looking at the couple in front of her, at the affectionate way they weren't afraid to stand close to each other but were still respectful enough to stand a few feet apart, Amir was reminded of her past, which was very strange indeed.

Amir had not had a good childhood, or even a mediocre one. After the age of 7, Amir hadn't had a mother, that was also the day she had lost her younger sister. Looking back on it, that might have been the day she lost her elder brother as well.

The air was sticky with the smell of fresh, metallic, clinging blood. The trees swayed stiffly as the humid, uncomfortable air blew gently around the clearing. It was just barely dusk, and the butterflies still danced in the sky, if only for a few minutes longer, and the birds sung their last song of the evening, unaware of the gruesome scene below them.

Light dimmed slightly as tall, imposing trees cast an eerie shadow over the mess of limbs, blood, hair, and torn clothing. Two bodies lay in the clearing, one motionless, blood still spewing from the torn up mess of a throat, and the other curling in on itself, burrowing into the soft, sweet smelling dirt in search of warmth.

The smaller of the bodies let out a cry of despair when it's search proved futile and it became painstakingly clear that it would find it's mother. A loud wail of unhappiness escaped from it's lumpy, overly large lips. It's disturbingly small head lifted off the ground slightly and thumped back with a muted sound as it cried and shrieked loudly, cutting off the sound of the birds, and interrupting the butterflies ballet.

It's good hand flew to the air, waving about madly, feeling for something, anything that would warm it, or feed it. Nothing. Just empty air.

It's smaller hand was so tiny is was barely attached to it's shoulder, and it hung limply and uselessly at the babies fat side. It's feet wiggled about a bit, but stopped after a few long seconds. Exhausted momentarily, it stopped wailing and breathed in harshly and noisily through its undersized nostrils, fat tears streaking it's odd looking cheeks and more welling up in the corner of its blank, white eyes.

The other body was more recognizable. The body of a woman, a pretty one at that. Long, pretty brown hair framing her heart shaped face, a few locks splay haphazardly over her high cheekbones, her skin deathly pale as her chest heaved one last time, and a sickening gurgle spluttered out of her mouth, scarlet blood dribbling out of the left side of her mouth.

From her head down, it was messier. Her throat was a mess of ripped skin, bone, and blood, her white, buttoned down shirt stained with the bright red, and the black dirt. The top two buttons were undone and the shirt was crumpled, as though she had been writhing just a few seconds before.

She was naked from the waist down, and her shirt rode up a bit over her belly button, showing half of a black tattoo. The women's long, tan legs soaked in her own blood and filth were strewn to the side, leaving her body at an awkward looking angle.

In her right hand, still shining menacingly through the blood, was a long bladed dagger. The expensive kind that you might buy foreign at a trading market, or specialty magics store. The engravings on it's hilt were masked with the sticky red fluid that seemed to cover everything, but they were still partly visible.

Next to her empty left hand was a pair of leather shoes. Never before had a pair of shoes seemed so significant, because just above those shoes, was a child. Wearing those torn, soft leather shoes, was a boy no younger than 13. 14 at the oldest.

His hair was a mirror of the women's hair, and he knew without having to guess that under her closed, dark lashed eyelids, there was a pair of beautiful blue eyes. Just like his own. Except that his blue eyes were blank, and empty of expression, while hers were just dead.

The boy cocked his head to one side, taking in the bloodied body of his mother. He knelt down on the ground, dirtying his jeans, and trailed one hand gently over her pretty hair, which she had always said looked much better on his sister.

His fingers moved to glide gently over the flesh wound where her knife had cut so easily. His hand came back bloodied.

The boy frowned and wiped his hand on the dirt, unhappy. His blank eyes glanced over to the girl, who looked less like his mother. Her hair had grown much paler over time, her eyes as well. You could tell though, they shared the same delicate cheekbones, the same graceful collarbone.

Except... his mother's cheek bones was covered in gore, and his sister's was covered by a deformed child that she cradled gently. The same thing that made his mother's eyes crack, that made her pupils dilate, and the exact same child that had made her scream profanities at all three of them. Not a child, a monster. A being that took away the woman that used to show him how to use shadows to his advantage, and how to sweep up behind a person without them even knowing.

A sudden bout of rage flew through him, lighting his veins on fire as he watched the deformed child coo happily.

"Drop it." His voice was level, but shook with an unseen authority. He stood up swiftly and gracefully, in one fluid movement walking over to his younger sister.

"Now."

The girl looked at him as though he had sprouted wings, her pale eyes wide as her free hand twitched over her jacket pocket which the boy knew concealed a weapon more dangerous than the magic he wielded.

"Mother is dead. She's the only one that knew how to use them you know, those keys of yours, the celestial ones?"

The girl looked at him for a moment, the silence was deafening to both of their ears as she set the baby down on the ground carefully, trying not to step on it when her brother shoved her out of the way.

The boy looked down at the child by his feet, his glare hardened as it squealed when a colder wind blew.

Shadows from neighboring trees creeped on the ground, slinking towards the boy, up his jeans, down his shirt, and into his awaiting palms.

The shadow magic was a trick his mother had showed him. An easy way to dispose of unwanted beings, such as the writhing thing before him. The shadows seeped into his hands, making them glow a frightening purple. He looked down at the child again and smiled, holding his palm outstretched before him.

The shadows exploded. Mist flew from his fingertips like droplets of water and it flew over the two bodies like a pulsing fog. Soon, the two bodies were no longer visible. There was a pained sound coming from the small child and the whimper rose to a scream as the boy watched.

After a few painful moments the fog died down, and the bodies were gone. The blood was absent, and the only trace of the horrific scene before them left was the smell of blood and terror.

The boy stood before the empty clearing, a fine tremor racked his body fiercely as his hands dropped limply to his sides, void of any magic. The angry boy had left, taking with him the body of his mother and sister, only a cold, expressionless, heaving shell lay behind.

"Wrian-"

"What?!" The boy snarled back at his sister, who had inched her way closer to him. His eyes were blank but he was still able to bare his teeth furiously at her, backing away slowly.

"Are you alright?"

Wrian looked down at his hands which had before glowed with shadows that had pulsed through him, warming him, as though his mother and sister weren't dead.

"Yes. Perfectly fine."

The boy straightened, the tremor ceasing as he took a deep breath and set out towards the edge of the green clearing. The sun had set now, and the darkness seemed to blanket over everything with its black, glutinous mass.

Wrian's head turned slightly, his eyes finding his sister's.

"Come on Amir. It's getting dark, bad things come out in the dark."

A relieved smile spread over the girls features as she let out a sigh. "Nothing comes out of the dark except you brother."

The boy smiled back at her dully, then turned and started the trek back up to the manor atop the hill, leaving the girl standing by herself for a moment, before she shook her head and hurried after him.

"But that's the only thing that worries me brother."

Amir banished her worrying thoughts and looked back to the couple in front of her, they were watching her with mild concern along with Hana.

The first, a young girl that looked about her age. Her yellow hair (not blonde, yellow), crackled with energy as though it would electrocute you if you touched it, and Amir wasn't sure that it wouldn't. Light blue eyes regarded her carefully.

The one standing next to her was a tall, imposing boy. His dark hair was disheveled and his grey eyes watched her steadily. Winding tattoos painted his upper face Amir was certain that he wore them on his arms as well, though they were currently obstructed by a thick coat.

Amir decided then that she would be the one to cut the thick tension that hung in the room.

"Thank you for saving my life."


End file.
